These are not clouds, but unsung melodies, waiting for somebody to understand their silence.

To me, pride is a silent understanding of your needs. A recognition of the strength you possess and the vulnerability that has brought you the strength you have. Our power comes from harnessing that which has power over us and guiding it, rather than trying to control it. Pride is having the strength to recognize your frailties, the strength to live simply and know that what you have is what you need. Pride is humility.

The sacred geometry of the salvage.

I like to use what's at hand. To harness the power of the materials and let them speak through me. All the materials in this mandala were either found in the dumpster or rescued on their way there. I like the idea of turning urban refuse into something to cherish. It's a way for me to find light in the excesses of the society we live in today.

Zampoñas

Charlie and I went backpacking through Pt. Reyes last weekend. I found inspiration in the way the wind blew through the pines and in the shelter we found among the ferns. The ripples were everywhere. Shaping and shaped by the mountains and the sea. It was slow and meditative and perfect. The spirit of the pampa was with us the whole way. On the last leg of the journey we sat down by a marsh filled with dry reeds and somehow ended up making pan flutes. 

Urban Redwood Salvage

This table is made out of redwood branches I found in the dumpster. The dumpster?!? 

Sacred Shavings

These are the first sacred shavings from my chisel. Photo by Charlie.

Carving away my sorrows

I've spent countless hours sharpening this chisel. Sharpened till I bled, sharpened until my knuckles buckled, sharpened sharpened sharpened. It's very important to bond with your tools.

Pachamama

Painting is unexplored territory for me, I'm used to carving wood and bending metal. It's a slow process, inspired by the ripples of the wood and the curvature of the sound waves.

There's no conventions for the words.

I thought the paint splotches looked like galaxies forming inside the head of this old man. I like to explore infinitely inward, as well as outward and sideways. This one kind of painted itself, I just brought the materials together. 

This mountain embodies song.

I found this burl of wood to be very inspiring. I like to imagine the seed it came from and the sunlight that helped it grow. The life it once had, and the new light it will bring to me. 

Sometimes its best to start a song just by, starting a song.

What a wonderful experience it has been to know Tony and to sit with him and sing songs and talk about anything and everything that sparks from them. Warm nights, beautiful artwork, soothing words. I've learned so much from sitting and talking with him, from watching him play guitar, from singing with him and with the other artists as as a unified body. The way he is unafraid to make mistakes in front of the class, or to throw himself into a tangent and bring us all along with him. Clapping, snapping, smiling, crying, singing. It's so inspiring. I've learned  how to trust my instincts and how to follow my train of thought rather than trying to control it. Sometimes we don't see the meaning in a piece of artwork until we are done creating it. When are we done creating it? Who knows. Making art is like capturing one moment in time, but that moment in time is constantly shifting, changing. It is an intuitive process. Often times I don't understand why I made a piece until it is done, and then it reveals itself to me. I am no longer afraid to stray away from my original intention with a piece, or to experiment and make mistakes, because anything that comes from my hand comes from a genuine source, and is part of a greater excavation of my subconscious. Tony said it best: "We need the pegs, but we also need the wafts." 

Turn my bones to his back, turn our faces to the west.

I'll ride an old paint out west where the brightest chantrelles and the biggest boletes grow.

Like most blues songs, a constant work in progress.

Also like a river, constantly changing but always whole.

I'm sometimes up and sometimes down, but I still know I'm heavenly bound.

It's somewhere in between just waking up and fading into sleep

She bid me take life east, as the grass grows on the weirs.

It's easy to get caught up in intangible angst, to feel caught in between two separate infinities, with only fleeting moments of clarity... Gotta learn to slow down and relax, these songs help.

Quit ramblin' quit gamblin', quit stayin out late at night.

Wobbly Roots

Listening to Mississippi John Hurt on my front porch got me in the mood to build something real special, so i gathered some old redwood branches and came out with a bedside table.

Says young man come go with me, down beside the deep blue sea

Out of death comes new life.

Can't quite shake the wanderlust

Oh Mary, Don't You Weep

It's better than just waiting around to die